Demise Of All Reason

Demise Of All Reason


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My Sweetheart, The Whore

Written By: Wes Fareas

She's the devil with amazing breasts.
He's a dreamer, when he dreams of flawless escape.

[He's not alone, that seems to be enough]

I am a machine.
A shell of what I dream.
I am you.

Crush us with high heels and coach bags, please...
Fuck my brains out, innocence is out of style...
(Note: this changes the way I dream)

You coward... Waiting, memorizing me.

Here: here's the helping hand holding a grudge

Looks like I’m the joke this time.

Incoming (worthless) message
[Please stand by]

I’m trying to help you
[Please stand by]

Please stand by, everything’s a test.
Please stand by, you're a fucking test.

Trauma is god.
God's hand pushing me away.

I’m trying to help you...

You cried out softly, that you "had to feel one soft song to end it all." So, I found the peace in melody...

Dave Mustaine

Written By: Wes Fareas

A thousand sands of miles of land sea...
A moment of shadow in moments of which you see the point of light...
Rhythmic clapping resonates inside these walls...
The screen is now a dim page, spread before us...

White - Silent


The film is broken...
The projector bulb has just burned out...
The last image was to immediate for any eye to register...

It may have been a human figure, but then the bastard speaks, and nothing sounds good outside my head...:

"Wake up, pretty girl, the joke's on you..."

"You’re on your own!!"

-We vomit while laughing...
As the projectionist banters on of diamonds and tidal waves...-

"Kill the world with song..."

The pointed tip of the rocket reaches its last unmeasurable gap above the roof...
The Crowd now fights for a good view..
... and i'll... fuck my way up front!!...

[The projectionist leads the cattle]


(The words become lost in the mix... As he begins to speak, one thing comes to mind: "We're gonna lose forever")

"It’s Mr. Nasty Time!!"

"If you were meant to play the villain in heat, for god sakes show some fucking conviction... So we'll make it a date and I don’t care how hard you are, these bullets will hurt."



There is time, if you need comfort, to touch the person next to you...
Though, if song must find you...
Just... Follow the bouncing ball...


Killer Whales, Man

Written By: Wes Fareas

“Oh sweet coma, where art thou coma"

-Please, spare me the monologue-

"There’s the spirit. Thank you. Now fuck off and die"

-No need to be rude now-

"It's such a long way down and you make it seem to easy"

By now, he's searching for exits and we're nothing short of invincible.

"Look at us! Look at us!"

Acceptance is a train wreck away!

...Go back to sleep...

Comparing photos. Then and now, now and then. Just wondering what all went wrong.

'Cause baby, you're a hard act to follow.

Eat! Breathe! Fuck! Die!
Eat! Breathe! Fuck! Die!
Eat! Breathe! Fuck! Die!
Eat! Breathe! Fuck! Die!

Animals got it fuckin' easy.

The Sycophant, The Saint, and The Game Fox

Written By: Wes Fareas

Prologue -

We are the dying breed of stargazers...
Circling spirits view onto the autopsy table...
Sinners and saints fail to communicate...
But only when the time runs short and the plot thickens...

[editor’s note: "She’s" a soft skinned cannonball, "He’s" a catastrophe that walks like a man]

Chapter 1 - The Sycophant:

("Him" Character) "I speak in means of defense! Who else is gonna do it?!"

We could form a mountain from his lies.
A man made disappointment.
The answers came from the avalanche...

("Her" Character) She played so many ghosts without a song,
while reaching for a gift with 6 ways to open it.

You started to worry you dealt yourself the hand.
Now, with your shipwreck stories, you say you didnt understand...

Here’s me: Sick of your shipwreck stories...

("Him") "Lets see the look on your face when I make this work"

[These vultures were in love.
Picked apart...
Hungry for the others heart...]

("Her") "If you should find yourself marching through sleep... Trust me..."


Chapter 2 - The Saint:

("Him) "What are you running from?!"

Panic swells his eyes in forms of color..
Now, shes a beautiful blue and grey...
[a crime off PASSION]

Chapter 3 - The Gamefox:

("?") "Are there problems in the air?
Or are you just not breathing?
You pretty locust, you...
...I still have a motive...."

[Its like a bear trap on concrete,
restrictions on my feet,
to keep me from finding the truth...]